


Who could blame her?

by Kitsilver



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Female Eivor (Assassin's Creed), Non-Explicit Sex, Randvi is thirsty, Secret Relationship, and so in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:07:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29051130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitsilver/pseuds/Kitsilver
Summary: Who could blame her, really?Vinland was so far away, weeks to reach and even longer to return. Who could blame Randvi for being so hungry for Eivor that she could not even wait for the welcome feast to conclude before pushing Eivor into a dark corner of the longhouse and asking – no,demanding -that she take her.
Relationships: Eivor/Randvi (Assassin's Creed)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 128





	Who could blame her?

Who could blame her, really?

Vinland was so far away, weeks to reach and even longer to return. Who could blame Randvi for being so hungry for Eivor that she could not even wait for the welcome feast to conclude before pushing Eivor into a dark corner of the longhouse and asking – no, _demanding -_ that she take her.

Right now.

All potential witnesses, and Randvi’s current marriage to Sigurd, be damned.

Randvi wanted her.

She also deeply, truly, missed her.

They had taken to sleeping together in the weeks before Eivor left for Vinland. Their relationship was to be kept a secret, something kept from the clan until Sigurd returned and they could tell him properly of their feelings and Randvi’s intent to separate from him. They were not sure of what his reaction would be, not even Eivor, because he was a different man than the one they had known. But Randvi had to hope that he would take it well, that he would agree that their marriage was one in name and not one in truth for many years, and there was no longer a need for the alliance and the peace that their marriage provided. Their home was England now and their people, their clan, were the ones celebrating inside this longhouse.

There was no need for an alliance with a warring clan. There was no longer a need for Randvi to give her hand to someone she did not love for the sake of peace.

Randvi wanted to be free, and this could be a simple thing. By the laws of their clan, all that was required was a gathering of witnesses, a citation of reasons, and a declaration of divorce. But Randvi and Eivor had both agreed that out of respect for Sigurd, they would wait until his return before making their relationship known.

And so they loved each other in secret.

A knowing glance shared over the alliance table.

A brushing of their hands as they exchanged cups of mead at feast.

A welcoming embrace after a return from a raid that lasted perhaps just a moment too long.

All the while, their embraces away from prying eyes became much less simple, much less innocent.

Randvi could not help it.

She had spent so much time looking at Eivor from across the alliance table and wondering what might have been, what could be, that now that she could actually reach out and touch her. Now that she could actually lean forward and _kiss_ her. Sparked something fierce and wild in Randvi’s heart.

And in other parts of her.

Parts of her that burned, even as they ran wet, at the thought of her.

Every kiss. Every glance. Every touch.

Made Randvi burn.

She _wanted_ Eivor. More than she had ever dreamed she could want someone.

And it wasn’t just her eyes, piercing and gray like a hawk. Or her face, sculpted and striking like the snow-capped peaks of Norway. It wasn’t just her strong, muscular frame, hardened by battle, hands roughened by callouses from axe and shield.

Gods. It was how she _used_ those hands that drove Randvi wild.

As a tease. Eivor’s hand slowly dragging up her thigh as they kissed, trying to strip each other as quickly as possible even as that hand made its slow, deliberate ascent.

As an anchor. To hold Randvi down while she squirmed, trying not to gasp as Eivor went down on her.

As a way to bring pleasure. When Eivor filled her, pushing into the warm and wet center of her, it was all Randvi could do to not scream. She would bite her lip instead, or bite Eivor, who would grunt in pain and fuck her harder.

To say that Randvi loved Eivor’s touch, loved the way she could make her come with her lips and teeth and tongue, would not do justice to the word.

Because Randvi loved other things too.

She loved the moments after when they lay quietly together. Entwined. Eivor’s arms wrapped around her while she left a trail of kisses down Randvi’s neck, making her shiver, then blowing into her ear to make her laugh. Loved the feel of Eivor’s hands roaming up and down her body, on the curve of her belly and the thick of her thigh, taking such pleasure in the feel of her even though she had her just moments before. Loved the feel of her wandering hands making their way to the center of her, and finding her wet again, and her gasp of arousal and want before she strove to make Randvi come again.

To say that Randvi wanted, would not do justice to the word.

Their secret, such as it was, became a poorly kept secret. And not because Eivor and Randvi could not keep their hands from each other when clansmen were present, though there were a few instances where they barely got their clothes on before someone walked into the room. For the most part, they tried to be intimate when there could be some expectation of privacy, when they could be, even for a brief moment, alone.

It was a poorly kept secret simply because they could not change how they looked at each other, even with others in the room. They could not help how they were drawn to each other, like a beggar who yearns for a piece of bread. They could not help but touch each other, in innocent ways, in fleeting ways, but with increasing frequency that made it clear it wasn’t entirely innocent.

When Eivor told her that she would leave for Vinland, and how many weeks and months she would be away, Randvi proposed that they start sleeping in the same room. Just to store up memories before she left and they were separated for the longest time since Randvi first joined the Raven clan. Eivor would leave shortly after dawn to maintain appearances, but not before Randvi learned what Eivor looked like first thing in the morning, when the early morning light turned her lashes to gold, and slumber made even this fiercest of drengrs look soft, and achingly beautiful. Randvi would feel this tug to her heart then, something like pain only it hurt so sweetly, and she would kiss Eivor on the forehead and hold her close.

It was more than lust that drove her to Eivor’s arms every night and made her seek out her touch in the day.

It was more than wanting, more than desire, that made Randvi’s heart ache as she watched Eivor sail away. Eivor’s gaze never left hers and Randvi remained on that dock until long after the longship had sailed.

It was months of waiting. Months of no word. No way to know if Eivor was safe. If she even lived. Months of sleeping in an empty bed.

Randvi did her duty and cared for her clan. Life did not end because a particular drengr was no longer near. But Randvi missed her all the same.

Missed the warmth of her expression as she looked at Randvi across a crowded room. Missed her touch, fleeting and sustained, tender and passionate. Missed the low rumble of her voice. Missed the taste of her on her tongue.

So when Eivor returned, whole and hearty, with eyes that sought out Randvi the moment her feet landed on the dock and whose face broke out into the broadest of smiles the moment she saw her – well, is it any wonder that Randvi did not simply march up to her right then, and kiss her for all the clan to see?

She did not. Because she still had some notions of propriety, and it was supposed to be a secret, and she did not have the right to claim Eivor publicly. At least, not yet.

But when the welcome feast dragged on late into the night, and most of the clan were too drunk to notice, Randvi would wait no longer.

***

It was dark in that corner of the longhouse, far enough from the central fire and the clansmen who still drank and danced beside it, far enough from the music and the laughter that no one noticed Randvi taking Eivor by the tunic and shoving her against the wall.

Eivor’s startled laughter, her expression happy and slightly drunk, dissolved into a moan when Randvi kissed her, taking her face in both of her hands and pressing her body against Eivor.

“Randvi,” Eivor said with a gasp, Randvi’s thigh finding its way between her legs and pressing hard. She squirmed a little, and something in Randvi gloried at that. Her strong, beautiful vikingr rendered helpless by her touch.

Eivor was not the only one who could take what she wanted.

“Yes, Eivor?”

Her words were polite but her tone was not, low and sultry and desiring. She tilted her head up to kiss Eivor more deeply, her hands wandering beneath her tunic to find the hard, flexing muscles of her belly, and up to her bound breasts. Eivor stiffened, breath frozen in her throat, then she took Randvi’s wrists and turned so that it was Randvi who was pressed to the wall.

Randvi squirmed as Eivor held her hands over head, a hard, muscled thigh between her legs. Eivor looked at her now with hooded eyes, all trace of laughter gone, replaced by desire. Randvi struggled against the hand that Eivor used to pin her, not to escape but because she wasn’t done being in control, only to find she could not budge.

That only made her want more.

“Did you miss me while I was away?” Eivor asked.

“You know I did.”

There was desperation in her voice and she did not care.

Eivor leaned in close, her breath hot on Randvi’s skin. “Tell me you want me.”

The low rumble of her voice, the desire there, shot a bolt of heat straight to the core of her.

“Fuck,” Randvi said, arching to get closer to her. “I want you, Eivor. I missed you.”

Eivor let go of her arm and finally pressed against her with an eager kiss. Randvi wrapped her arms around Eivor’s neck, hiking up a leg to wrap around Eivor’s waist, felt herself growing wet and needing Eivor to touch her there.

“Take me.” 

With a groan, Eivor picked her up so that both of Randvi’s legs were wrapped around her waist and walked them to her room, barely stopping to secure the curtain before dropping Randvi onto the bed.

It was a blur after, though Randvi tried to slow it down at times to appreciate, to relearn, all the little things she had forgotten when Eivor was away. How hard the muscles in her shoulders and back felt when Eivor was on top of her. How good it felt to have Eivor inside her, flicking her. The ticklish spot on Eivor’s inner thigh, and how her laughter would turn to a groan when Randvi got her mouth on her. The taste of Eivor on her tongue.

When it was over, they lay naked and entwined together on the bed. Eivor with her arms wrapped around Randvi, dropping kisses on her neck and shoulder. Randvi sighed, happy and content for the first time in months.

“I had dreamed of this, you know.” Eivor murmured. “So many nights spent on the longship in the cold, or on the hard ground, I would close my eyes and dream of this. Of you.”

Randvi smiled and turned to face Eivor. “This is what you dreamed of, then? Nothing else?”

Eivor shook her head, taking Randvi’s hand and kissing it. “I dreamed of this and so much more.”

Randvi leaned in close, her head nestled against Eivor, their hands clasped between them. “Tell me of everything you dreamed of.”

They talked long into the night. Of dreams of the future, of the home they hoped to build, of the life they wanted to live together.

Their relationship was supposed to be a secret, though a poorly kept secret indeed. Randvi did not know if she wanted to keep waiting, if she could stand to wait the weeks or months until Sigurd returned to declare herself free of him. Free to be with Eivor.

It seemed such a waste to stay away, to hold herself back.

But that conversation would have to wait. For the morrow or for another day.

For now, there was only the two of them in this room, sharing their warmth and holding each other as they dreamed of the future. 

Everything else could wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s notes: Hope you liked it! I wanted to write something like this last week, but I had to finish the final chapter in the wounded Eivor arc in the ‘the feeling you.’ I wasn’t sure how explicit this would be, and turned out not to be too explicit because good sex is hard to write. But I hope you still felt how much Randvi wants Eivor, and how Eivor wants Randvi too.
> 
> Thanks as always for reading! Would love to see your comments.


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